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Time for some grains of truth about wheat and gluten

The current epidemic of gluten intolerance says more about our psychology than our physiology

Non-toxic

(Image: Kevin Morris/Getty)

IN 2011, Novak Djokovic enjoyed what has been described as the greatest year ever in men’s professional tennis. He started with a 41-match winning streak, reached number one in the world and won three of the four grand slam tournaments, including Wimbledon. Last week, he collected the trophy again.

Djokovic’s incredible run surprised many in the tennis world&colon; although he was a fine player, he had a reputation for being physically fragile.

Earlier this year he revealed his secret. In 2010, his nutritionist had diagnosed him as “gluten intolerant” and cut wheat from his diet. Djokovic says he instantly felt fresher, sharper and more energetic, and now recommends that everybody gives it a go.

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Testimonials like Djokovic’s have helped to cement the idea that there is something wrong with eating wheat, and that cutting it from our diets can have almost miraculous results. Gluten has been blamed for all sorts of health woes, from bloating and other gut problems to headaches, joint pain and fatigue.

This identification of vague but widespread symptoms with a single widely consumed culprit has led to an epidemic of self-diagnosed gluten intolerance, going far beyond those whose sensitivities have been accepted by doctors. Folk wisdom has it that around 1 in 5 people would benefit from cutting wheat out of their diet to some degree (see “Should you eat wheat? The great gluten debate“). Around a third of Americans are reported to be considering it.

Is it plausible that something that has been a staple food for centuries should suddenly turn out to be so bad for so many?

Is it plausible that something that has been a staple food for centuries can be so bad for so many?

For a handful of people the answer is yes, either because they are allergic to wheat or because they have an autoimmune disorder called coeliac disease. But for the rest of us the evidence is weak. There are no end of anecdotes of the “it worked for me” variety. You may benefit from reducing your wheat intake, but probably not because your digestion is troubled by gluten. Being careful what you eat – and cutting back on white bread, cake and beer – will pay dividends whatever your diet.

Of course, everybody is entitled to eat, or not eat, whatever they choose. But the endorsements of a gluten-free diet are obscuring some important considerations. People with coeliac disease are warned of the risk that their diet could be deficient in key nutrients. Gluten-free foods are often short on fibre and high on sugar. And cutting out gluten totally is complicated, inconvenient and often expensive.

All told, gluten-free diets look like yet another passing fad. Once the craze fades, something else will take its place, because the popularity of such diets has more to do with our psychology than our physiology. We have a tendency to copy high-status individuals, we are prone to magical thinking (such as the notion that one ingredient is the cause of all our woes), and often assume that what is natural is inherently good (the “palaeo” human diet probably did not include many grains). The appeal of gluten-free has drawn strength from all three.

It doesn’t help that nutrition science is slow-moving and imprecise. That is why the real experts tend to stick to meat-and-potatoes advice such as eating your greens and cutting down on fat. That is nowhere near as glamorous as a magic-bullet solution endorsed by a sporting superstar. But it is probably closer to the truth.